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Dazai’s mind is always hurtling at breakneck speed, not through any choice of his own. He just needs to be prepared for anything and everything that can happen, because he was trained that way, and he has his found family at the Agency that he wants to protect. But it can be exhausting, especially when his mind is so active that it’s hard for him to sleep or rest at all, and he has had his various vices over the years to help manage it. Alcohol was the easiest, but he didn’t like how impaired he got. If he were in a public setting, even with his coworkers around, he wouldn’t feel safe. If he drank in his dorm, it was a little better, but no one was around so he didn’t enjoy that either.
Some of his other vices were… dangerous, no matter how good they were for quieting the voices. Dazai didn’t feel safe or good when tossing himself into the nearest river, for his brain to quiet down for a few seconds before screaming at him for air. So he doesn’t like those vices either, and for years, he just struggled with it, and figured he would have to struggle with it for however long his life was.
Until Chuuya.
Well, when he first met Chuuya, his brain didn’t grind to a halt entirely. His thoughts of not wanting to live to see the next day were just replaced with how he can kill—or just piss off—Chuuya the next day. He wasn’t able to quiet his thought process entirely, until years passed, they reconnected, and finally fell into the thing that had been building between them since the moment they met. Then Dazai discovered the quiet that comes with Chuuya fucking him.
There’s some delightful head space he falls into when Chuuya’s hands are on him, something Chuuya explained at some point but Dazai was too eager to get Chuuya’s fingers in him so he let the explanation filter in and out of his head. And the longer they take, or the rougher they are, the deeper Dazai falls in, and he thinks it’s the best vice he could pick. For one thing, there’s no harm done—besides some bruises they leave on each other. And Chuuya is just as enthusiastic, seeming to take a lot of pleasure in making Dazai fall apart.
So, when Dazai thinks his brain is working a little too fast one evening after work, he heads to Chuuya’s and uses the key Chuuya gave him after he’d broken in one too many times. Chuuya’s shoes aren’t in the entryway, which means he must not be home, and Dazai ignores the crushing feeling of loss in his chest, because it just means that Chuuya is still at work—and Dazai knows how to get him home.
Dazai toes off his shoes and hangs up his coat, then heads right for the bedroom. Even if Chuuya isn’t there, Dazai can lie down in his bed and luxuriate in the scent of Chuuya all around him. He’s been stealing a couple of Chuuya’s clothes, actually, just so he can have that scent in his dorm too. He’s sure Chuuya has noticed, but isn’t saying anything, because he doesn’t mind.
Dazai flops down onto Chuuya’s (very nice) sheets, and then gets comfortable, loosening his upper layers and pants. Even without Chuuya here, he’s starting to get hard at just the thought of a few days ago, when Chuuya had tied his hands to the headboard and rode him until Dazai cried. Dazai’s breath hitches as he gets his phone out, and checks Chuuya’s location. Sure enough—still at work. Ugh. With one hand playing up his abdomen, Dazai uses the other to send a text to Chuuya. where are u slug?? i’m dumping out your haircare stuff
The reply comes almost immediately: don’t fucking do that or i’ll smack you when i get back
is that a promise~? <3
not gonna smack you then. you’re gonna pay to replace them
i can’t afford to replace them :( maybe there’s some other way i can pay you back? ;)
nope.
Dazai pouts at his phone, even though Chuuya can’t see him. slug is a workaholic. when r u coming home??
i’ve got work. be home in probably an hour
An entire hour?? Dazai will be dead by the time Chuuya gets back. Instead of responding immediately, Dazai puts a hand on his chest, where his nipples are poking out through the bandages criss-crossing his torso. Although it’s not as good as when Chuuya plays with them, Dazai rolls one between his fingers until it’s nice and hard and his breath is hitching at his sensitivity. Then he opens the camera and lifts his phone. It’s not easy to get the angle he wants, but it’s worth the way his wrist is yelling at him for the angle down his body, his hard nipples on display and hard cock pressing against his pants more insistently.
Dazai sends it off to Chuuya, and idly rubs his nipple with one finger as he waits for a response. The typing bubble pops up, but then it disappears, and Dazai frowns. Chuuya would either snap at him for sending something like that while he’s at work, or… Dazai opens Chuuya’s location again, and sees the dot rapidly moving away from the Mafia headquarters and toward Chuuya’s apartment building. It looks like he’s moving quickly, bouncing from rooftop to rooftop using his ability. Dazai snorts and sets his phone down, then gets back to touching himself more purposefully while he waits for Chuuya to get home.
It’s a little chilly in the apartment because Chuuya runs warm, but Dazai tugs his vest and shirt off anyway so he can get started on his bandages. He’d worn them to work, as he always does, but he’s eager to feel Chuuya’s skin against his own, and Chuuya always takes forever taking them off because he likes to tease (and press kisses and praises to Dazai’s revealed skin). It’s definitely one of the easiest ways to send Dazai into that floaty headspace, but not the quickest, and Dazai doesn’t think he can stand to wait tonight.
Once his torso is bare, and his clothes and bandages are tossed to the side for Chuuya to clean up later, Dazai takes a shaky breath as he licks his thumb, then tugs at a hard nipple. A shock of pleasure goes through his system at the feeling, though it’s still not as good as when Chuuya does it. Dazai has to resist the urge to check Chuuya’s location again as his other hand skates down his chest, to his abdomen, to pop open his pants and tug them down to give his cock some relief. He wishes it was Chuuya’s fingers wrapping around the base.
Knowing Chuuya is on his way, and could be here at any moment, though, serves to make him harder, and Dazai chokes on a moan of Chuuya’s name as he presses his thumb against his slit. He closes his eyes and arches his neck as he pumps his cock, using the beads of precome now bubbling from his slit to lubricate the slide. He knows exactly where Chuuya keeps his lube, but he can’t be bothered to reach over, entirely done with making decisions for the day as he’ll let Chuuya decide what to do when he gets here. Maybe Chuuya wants to suck him off, hot wet mouth wrapped around Dazai’s cock until he comes. Or maybe Chuuya will want to finger him, rubbing against his prostate relentlessly until Dazai can’t take it anymore. Or maybe he’ll even get out their (increasingly larger) box of toys and use a vibrator or gag on him.
Dazai just wishes Chuuya would hurry up so he doesn’t have to keep up all the mental energy of fantasizing, and physical energy of pinching his nipples and stroking his cock. Dazai’s eyelids flutter and he moans and pants, squirming on the bed and also wishing he had taken off his pants, since now they’re just constricting his movement. His hole clenches around nothing as Dazai thinks about the last time Chuuya had fucked him, and his eyes open at least enough so he can get his stupid pants off.
Then he nearly has a heart attack as he spots Chuuya in the doorway, even though he knew Chuuya was coming. “Chuuya!”
“Osamu,” Chuuya replies, mocking him. Even though he’s mocking Dazai, he looks like a vision: hair wind-tangled from the trip over, his hat, coat, and gloves gone, his face flushed lightly, and a visible bulge in his pants. His arms are crossed, giving off the exact vibe that makes Dazai’s cock throb. “Go ahead. You seem like you’re doing just fine without me.”
It’s playful, Dazai knows it is, but he whines anyway, “Am not. I left my pants on for you to take off.”
“And nothing else,” Chuuya interrupts smoothly. “So go ahead and keep going.”
Dazai knows Chuuya isn’t moving a damn inch without some sort of ask from him, so he fights the stubbornness clawing up his throat to say, “Please? Pretty please come over and touch me.”
Chuuya’s mouth twitches, and his arms unfold and he walks over to the edge of the bed, just short of where Dazai wants him. “Did you mess with my shit?”
Dazai laughs even as he’s reaching a hand up for Chuuya. “Didn’t have the time to. I wanted to get in Chuuya’s bed too quickly.”
Chuuya’s eyes narrow, and Dazai kind of expects him to go to the bathroom to check, but it seems like Dazai’s word is good enough and Chuuya climbs onto the bed, catching Dazai’s outstretched hand and pinning it to the sheets beside him. “You’re a fucking tease. I’m gonna have to stay late tomorrow to catch up, you know.”
Dazai figures he’d better snark while he has the mental capacity to do so. “Chuuya should learn how to get others to do his work,” he says with a lilt to his voice, his other hand reaching up for Chuuya now that he’s within reach.
But Chuuya catches that one too, so he’s pinning both beside Dazai. “Yeah. One of these days, I’m gonna lay back and let you do all the work for once.”
Dazai’s face scrunches up in a grimace. That definitely wasn’t the takeaway he had intended, but Chuuya is leaning down and kissing the grimace off his face and Dazai suddenly doesn’t care about the conversation he can’t even remember. Chuuya likes to kiss softly at first, sweetly, lulling Dazai into a calm as his thumbs rub against Dazai’s wrists, his grip not even tight enough that Dazai couldn’t escape it.
But Dazai had already gotten himself all worked up, and so he tries to deepen the kiss, mouth opening as tongue flicking against Chuuya’s lips. At that, Chuuya moves, his mouth pressing kisses to Dazai’s cheeks and chin instead. Dazai tries to follow him, but Chuuya moves again, down to his neck, and Dazai can feel the smile Chuuya presses against his skin, so he knows Chuuya is doing it to tease him right back.
Even at the light touches, Dazai’s cock leaks against his stomach, and he’s starting to think he miscalculated, because Chuuya’s patience is endless. His pants aren’t making it easy for him to kick at Chuuya either, and Dazai is about to take his damn hands back when Chuuya’s teeth sink into the skin over his collarbone and Dazai promptly stops worrying about moving on as he lets out a yelp. Chuuya’s breath puffs against his skin as he laughs, then moves on to make another mark, sucking until dark purple blooms on Dazai’s skin.
Pleasure courses through Dazai’s body as Chuuya bites and sucks a trail of marks across Dazai’s chest, around the scars that he presses soft kisses to, until he reaches one of Dazai’s nipples and seals his mouth around it. Chuuya’s mouth is just as good as Dazai was imagining it, and he jolts hard with a cry of Chuuya’s name. His nipples are already sensitive from him playing with them, a fact Chuuya takes full advantage of as he flicks his hot tongue over them again and again.
Dazai is so hazy with pleasure he almost doesn’t register Chuuya pulling back, then lifting Dazai’s hands above him. Dazai blinks, forcing his eyes to focus and wondering briefly why the hell they both still have clothes on, before realizing that Chuuya has snagged some of his discarded bandages and is tying them to the headboard, then looping them snugly around Dazai’s wrists. It’s as slow and methodical as if Chuuya had removed the bandages himself, except a thousand times better because Dazai can’t easily get out of the knot Chuuya has tied—only Chuuya can undo it.
“Chuuya,” Dazai breathes his name reverently, staring up at him even though Chuuya’s eyes are on the knot he’s made, and he tugs on it for good measure. Then he returns his attention to Dazai, shifting down so he can finally tug Dazai’s pants and underwear off and toss them to the side. Chuuya is still wearing his pants and upper layers, and Dazai wants to complain, but his mouth is dry as Chuuya looks down at him with the same reverence Dazai shows him.
Chuuya eyes his still leaking cock, then lifts his eyes to meet Dazai’s. His lips curl in a smile that Dazai knows means Chuuya is about to say something either devastatingly mean or devastatingly kind. “Gorgeous. So good, getting yourself worked up for me. You look so pretty when you’re desperate.”
Ah, so it’s devastatingly kind, Dazai thinks faintly as he shudders under Chuuya’s hands on his thighs. “Chuuya,” he repeats, but this time with more need, and Chuuya’s smile grows.
“Yeah, that’s it, so needy. I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart. You just gotta be good enough to wait for it.” Then his hands are leaving Dazai, and Dazai nearly cries in complaint, but he stops with a rough swallow as Chuuya’s hands start unbuttoning his vest.
Dazai’s hands twitch in their bondage as he watches Chuuya undress himself, wishing it was his hands doing it instead. But Chuuya only sometimes lets him after the time Dazai had ripped one of his shirts in his haste to get it off, and when he does, he’s making sure Dazai goes slow. Dazai is forced to just watch as Chuuya’s jacket gets tossed aside, then his vest and button-up, and then his pants and underwear. He’s recovered his breath, but his coherency is getting wiped away with every revealed inch of Chuuya’s skin. If Chuuya let him, Dazai would spend hours worshipping that body with his hands and mouth, but obviously he’s not going to let him this time.
Once he’s naked, Chuuya plants his palms on Dazai’s thighs to spread them apart, then settles on his knees between them. “So good,” he repeats, smile returning when he can see Dazai’s cock twitch in response to the praise. Then he leans down for the kiss Dazai was trying to initiate earlier, his tongue dipping into Dazai’s open mouth and rubbing against his as Dazai moans and tries to lift his legs to wrap around Chuuya, but he’s putty beneath Chuuya’s body. One of Chuuya’s hands moves, teasing his cock, then his balls, then his hole, a finger just rubbing against the dry rim. And Dazai finally, finally slips fully into that headspace he loves, brain going staticy and body going lax.
Anything he’d worked on today, any plans he had to make, anything at all was gone, and only Chuuya was left. Chuuya sucking and then biting down on his lower lip, Chuuya’s hand tugging on a sensitive nipple, Chuuya’s other hand’s finger pressing against his hole without dipping in. Dazai clenches mindlessly against the pressure, trying to suck Chuuya’s finger in, and Chuuya laughs, breath puffing against Dazai’s swollen lips. “You want me that bad—”
“Please,” Dazai interrupts without a care, last brain cell settling into place so he can beg for what he needs. “Please, Chuuya, please fuck me.” He fights shaking limbs to lift his legs and hook them around the small of Chuuya’s back, trying to encourage Chuuya to move faster even with his hands bound.
Chuuya sighs, his hands going idle against Dazai’s skin. “You sound so good when you beg, baby.” The pet name makes Dazai melt again, his legs falling against the bed as Chuuya lifts himself, leaning over to the bedside table to grab the lube. Dazai worries that he’s developing some sort of Pavlovian response to the squeak of the drawer containing the lube opening, because he hears it and his hole clenches around nothing in anticipation. He doesn’t really have the brain power to worry about much of anything anymore, though, when Chuuya settles back down and squeezes some lube onto his fingers. Dazai’s brain fuzzes out when he sees Chuuya warming it between his fingers, out of care for Dazai, and he almost misses Chuuya speaking.
“If you had waited, I would’ve turned you over and eaten you out,” Chuuya says, with a tone like he’s discussing Dazai missing a meal. Light disappointment, in the hopes that Dazai does better next time. It makes the knot in Dazai’s stomach curl sharply, and he has the sudden urge to cry.
“After,” Dazai manages. “Come in me and eat me out after.”
Chuuya blinks at him in surprise. “You’re still thinking?” he asks, before lowering his hand and pressing that same finger, only now lubed, against Dazai’s hole. He clicks his tongue, but then hums in satisfaction as Dazai’s hole all but sucks his finger right in. “Guess I’ve gotta work a little harder.”
And work harder he does. Dazai forgets all about the disappointment of not being able to feel Chuuya’s wet, warm tongue working him open, in the wake of Chuuya opening him up with his fingers. He swears he can feel every swirl of Chuuya’s fingerprint with the way he presses against Dazai’s walls, and Dazai’s eyelids flutter as Chuuya quickly—easily—presses in a second finger. He can’t even hope to control the noise he’s making when Chuuya is playing him like this, though most of his noises get swallowed when Chuuya leans back down to kiss him again.
As Chuuya shifts, Dazai can feel Chuuya’s cock, hot and heavy with blood, press up against his thigh, and Dazai chokes on a moan into their kiss. He can’t help how turned on he gets at the thought that Chuuya is turned on, turned on because of Dazai, and how badly he wants to fuck Dazai but he’s being patient in opening him up so he doesn’t hurt him. Dazai’s mouth goes a little slack at the thought, so Chuuya starts pressing kisses to his jaw and neck, shifting down to relieve his wrist a little too since the angle gets weird with their height difference. If Dazai had his way, he’d want Chuuya kissing him as he fucked him, until he passed out from lack of breath, but Chuuya can only reach his collarbones if he stretches and it’s a damn shame.
The next second, Chuuya’s three fingers rub up against his prostate, and Dazai nearly tears the bandages binding him to the bed with how hard he jolts. He can’t even find the breath to cry out at the contact, because Chuuya’s fingers keep massaging the spot, and pleasure overwhelms him completely. He can feel his cock dribbling precome onto his abdomen, but Chuuya doesn’t even make a move to touch it, and now Dazai thinks he might be crying and pleading again.
There’s an awful moment where Chuuya lets up and pulls his fingers out, and he has to take an eternity to spread lube over his cock. Dazai’s fingers curl uselessly as he watches, desperately wishing it was his hand stroking Chuuya’s cock. He must’ve said something out loud to that effect, because Chuuya’s pretty blissed-out face gets washed out by a choked laugh. “I’ll let you touch later, Osamu.”
The use of his given name, even if Chuuya says it more often now, is enough to send another wave of static through his brain, and he widens his legs eagerly as Chuuya pushes forward, the head of his cock popping right in with the amount of prep he’d done. Chuuya’s eyes are locked on where he’s pushing into Dazai, but Dazai’s eyes are locked on Chuuya’s face, watching how much he struggles against his instincts to just slam inside. Dazai clamps down around Chuuya’s cock entirely on purpose, just to see Chuuya squeeze his eyes shut with a groan. He mutters a curse, then finally pushes all the way in, and his eyes open to look up at Dazai. Dazai figures that he looks like a total mess, but Chuuya must like what he sees because he leans down to press a ridiculously soft kiss to an old bruise on Dazai’s chest.
That’s all the warning Dazai gets before Chuuya is giving it everything he’s got, hands on Dazai’s thighs for leverage as he pounds into him. Dazai has ascended to a higher plane entirely, since it’s what he’s been wanting all day—all he has to do is lie back and take Chuuya’s punishing thrusts, looking and sounding pretty. Chuuya doesn’t hold back in telling him so either, murmuring praises into his skin as he puts his mouth all over Dazai’s chest, as far as he can reach. Chuuya’s cock is so deep that Dazai feels like he can’t breathe, especially when Chuuya uses the grip on his thighs to shift him up and the head of his cock is pressing against his prostate on every thrust. Dazai can hardly feel his throat getting hoarse at the way he’s gasping and sobbing Chuuya’s name and pleas in equal measure.
He’s been hard for far too long, and his cock is throbbing and leaking against his abdomen, but Chuuya still isn’t moving to touch it. He either wants Dazai to come untouched, or to wait for permission, but Dazai thinks the former is much more likely because he’s ready to combust with every touch and thrust Chuuya delivers. It’s amazing he still has space in his brain left for thinking at all, but even that is wiped away when Chuuya’s mouth seals around a nipple, and Dazai nearly tears his bandages again with how hard he’s tugging at them. He wants to put his hands on Chuuya, to tangle in his hair, to scratch up his back, to put one on his cock that’s begging for relief at this point, but he also loves the lack of control Chuuya gives him in these situations.
It’s seeing Chuuya fall apart that finally does him in. Chuuya always looks pretty, but there’s something to the furrow of his eyebrows or the way his mouth is open to pant as he fucks Dazai. The band in Dazai’s abdomen snaps, and he goes completely silent as he comes, eyes rolling back and losing the view of Chuuya falling over the edge too. He feels his cock twitch and paint his abdomen in strips of white as Chuuya’s cock spurts inside of him, and his breath comes back in a rush and he’s wailing Chuuya’s name, uncaring of anyone who might hear, uncaring of anyone who isn’t Chuuya.
He’ll be devastated later that he didn’t get to watch Chuuya come, nor was he really aware of the clean-up, since Chuuya always takes care of him. His awareness starts to creep back incrementally, until he’s aware that the lights he’d turned on earlier have dimmed and Chuuya is trying to get him to drink some of the juice he keeps for times like these.
Dazai does willingly take a few sips—and then a few more, because he is incredibly dehydrated—before he croaks out, “Chuuya didn’t eat me out.”
Chuuya snorts as he trades the juice for some snack cakes. “You’re gonna complain after I fucked you nearly unconscious?”
“And then didn’t eat me out,” Dazai grumbles, willing his hands to move to take the cakes. He can see that the bandages pressed indentations into his skin, but Chuuya put some lotion on to soothe the ache.
“You wouldn’t have been aware of it,” Chuuya snips back, his words harsh but lacking any real bite.
Dazai shrugs, uncaring to argue when he knows he can probably coax Chuuya into it later. Probably tomorrow, since his body seems ready for a nap and he can feel the ache settling into his limbs. “Chuuya can make it up to me later,” he decides, shooting Chuuya a beaming smile.
Chuuya scowls and continues to argue back, but the way his legs have tangled with Dazai’s makes Dazai think that Chuuya has already given in. His brain isn’t entirely online yet, but at least the background chatter will be on a low simmer as long as he’s around Chuuya.